


Drive me Crazy, Drive me Wild!

by noxsoulmate



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 5+1 Things, American Football Player Dean Winchester, Bad Pick-Up Lines, Charlie is amazing, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Smut, Christmas toy drive, Dad Castiel, Dean Winchester Dressed as Santa, Drunk Dean Winchester, Drunk flirting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Famous Dean Winchester, M/M, Meet-Cute, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, charity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:47:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22272082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noxsoulmate/pseuds/noxsoulmate
Summary: The first time Castiel met Dean Winchester could not have gone any worse. It’s no wonder he instantly hates the famous former NFL star and known Casanova. To make it worse, the man doesn’t even remember Cas when they meet for the second time. And ifthatis not bad enough, Dean ‘the douchebag’ Winchester also turns out to be the sponsor of Castiel’s toy drive.But the more time they spend together, the more Castiel begins to realize that first impressions are not always right.Or: The One time Dean Winchester was a douchebag and Five times he wasn't.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 32
Kudos: 540
Collections: Destiel Harlequin Holiday Cheesefest Challenge 2019





	1. The one time Dean Winchester was a drunk douchebag

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my friends 😊 
> 
> Here's my entry to the wonderful [Destiel Harlequin Cheesefest](https://destielharlequinchallenge.tumblr.com/) \- find the original prompt [here](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1nmQgWvMUxLzAV6cD4p9EzjdPTcW32Uu9z6ukZxvf0IQ/edit?usp=sharing).
> 
> This started out as a ‘5+1’ kind of story... but then it morphed and now it’s a ‘1+5’ story, lol 😂
> 
> Have some Destiel Holiday fluff - and smut 😁

#  **The one time Dean Winchester was a drunk douchebag**

Cas knew he shouldn’t have listened to his best friend, but then again, it _was_ his birthday. His thirty-third birthday, no less, and Cas would be lying if he said the number hadn’t made him think about where he was at in life.

Proud father of a son.

Passionate community volunteer.

Single.

The last one was probably the reason he had let Billie talk him into this night out in town. But he should have known better. He _had_ known better. Cas was not one for bars or clubs; Billie’s _Reaper’s Delight_ was a combination of both. A sin-hole for everything and everyone, for those who wanted to dance and those who wanted hot sex in a private backroom. For those who wanted to let loose and those who fancied a drink at the bar.

Cas belonged to neither of those groups but was currently choosing the least daunting of these options, sipping a beer at the bar. Billie didn’t seem to mind, having given up trying to drag him on the dancefloor. She was currently dancing like there was no tomorrow, sandwiched between a poisonous-looking woman and a man who just about screamed sex with his artfully disheveled hair and tight pants.

Well, good for his friend, Cas thought with a huff.

At least one of them should have fun. It certainly wasn’t going to be him, Cas thought bitterly as he drained the last of his drink.

Pulling out his phone, Cas checked for any new messages from the babysitter. He didn’t like leaving Jack alone, even though he knew that wasn’t healthy. But his son had issues with trusting people and was generally uneasy around new faces. It had taken quite a while until he had come to like Claire and had been okay with her babysitting him. That had been two years ago and to this day, Cas was still uneasy with the thought of leaving them alone.

Which was stupid of course. Jack was eight now, and Claire twenty-one. He trusted her to know what to do should anything happen.

Sighing, Cas was about to put away his phone to order another drink when a body crashed into him. The clash made him lose his grip, and his phone tumbled to the floor - and was instantly stepped on.

“ _Fuck!!_ ” Cas yelled, jumping up and quickly retrieving the device from the floor.

There was a huge crack over the display and when he pressed the button to unlock it, the screen stayed black, with the exception of a few fuzzy lines that looked like his screensaver.

“Fuck!” he repeated, turning around to give whoever had crashed into him an earful. “What the fuck is wrong-”

The words died on his lips as he came face to face with the most handsome face he had ever seen. Eyes, so green they looked like a meadow after a summer rain. Lips, so perfectly formed and plush that it would probably feel like kissing a cloudy sky. And freckles. Oh good God, don’t get him started on those freckles, splattered over soft skin like the stars on the night sky.

And then the jackass just had to open his mouth.

“Whoopsie,” was the first he said, his flirty grin lopsided, alcohol so strong on his breath that it almost knocked Cas off his feet. “Guess this would be a bad time to ask for your number?”

Cas was pretty sure no seed of attraction had ever been squashed faster than his in this very moment.

“This is a _bad anything_ , assbutt.”

“Assbutt?” the guy asked, smirk growing wider. “That’s actually really cute. Look man,” he went on, downing a shot of clear liquid that had appeared in his hand out of nowhere. “Sorry and all that. Didn’t mean to bump into you. Well… at least not like that,” he added with an eyebrow-wiggle.

A fucking eyebrow-wiggle.

Cas could feel his gaze turning even darker.

“I’m sorry, is that a flirtation?”

“Of course it is, sweetheart. I actually came over here to ask you something.” Before Cas could react, the man leaned closer, gazing up at him through his damn long lashes. “Did it hurt?”

Cas _knew_ what was coming. He fucking _knew_ it - but he couldn’t help himself, couldn’t just walk away; instead, he stood there, staring dumbly at the guy. Who, if he thought about it now, looked vaguely familiar. But Cas couldn’t place where he had seen him before. The fact that he was still wondering over who this guy was, was likely part of why he didn’t react in time to prevent the next line out of the man’s mouth.

“Did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?”

Before he could reply, the guy started laughing at his own joke.

If he would tell Billie about this later, she would get a kick out of it - especially in reference to his name.

Right now, however, he was two seconds away from kneeing this jerk in his jewels. He couldn’t even pinpoint what annoyed him the most.

That the guy was so trashed he had bumped into Cas.

That he had broken his phone.

That Cas had to suffer through bad pick up lines.

Or that his body was still convinced that the guy was attractive.

Well, he _was_. There was no reason to deny he was _physically_ attractive. But he was also shitfaced and nothing was less erotic than a shitfaced guy who had no control over himself or his words and actions. Therefore: bad body _, very bad body,_ for trying to convince him otherwise.

Not able to think of a witty enough comeback and therefore deciding to not even dignify this little stunt with a reply, Cas turned on his heels and was about to make his way over to where Billie was still dancing. He would have to let her know that he was leaving, his limit of shit for one night had certainly reached.

A hand around his wrist stopped him.

“Hey, sweetheart, sorry,” the guy told him, pulling him back around. “Bad pick up line, I know. But you really look like a fucking angel.”

“This _angel_ is going to knock you out and make you see _stars_ if you don’t let go of me _right this second_.”

“Whoops, sorry,” the guy replied, letting go instantly and raising his hands in defense.

Well, at least he wasn’t a complete douchebag.

Right then, one of the spotlights caught on to the guy for barely a moment before it flitted across the dancefloor again. It wasn’t long, but it was enough to give Cas his first real clear view of the guy’s face as a whole - not only his sexy attributes.

Cas’ was pretty sure his jaw hit the floor.

“You’re Dean Winchester.”

“Guilty,” the man replied with a smile, slowly lowering his hands and staggering back into Cas’ personal space. “So, whatcha say? Wanna get out of here? Maybe one of the backrooms?”

Pulling all his willpower together, Cas slowly shoved the guy away from him instead of pushing him off. No need to make a scene.

No, really. The _last thing_ Cas needed was a scene with someone famous.

“Sorry,” he replied as calmly as possible. “But I’m certainly not interested.”

To his great credit, the guy dropped his flirty smirk, gaze turning somewhat serious, before his lips quirked up into a sad parody of a grin. He nodded once. 

“Knew you would say no, but had to try anyway, right?”

“Wait, what?” Not that the guy wasn’t right, but… why would he think that of Cas?

When the man leaned in this time, Cas let him, knowing that he wouldn’t try anything.

The warm breath over his ear gave him goosebumps.

“Told you, you look like an angel. And what would a gorgeous angel like you want with a fuck-up like me?”

Baffled, Castiel was unable to reply and could only watch as Dean Winchester, former golden boy of the NFL and recent-scoundrel of the media, turned around and left _Reaper’s Delight_.


	2. The First Time: When Dean surprised Cas

#  **The First Time: When Dean surprised Cas**

“Castiel, I’m telling you; we’re in over our heads with this.”

Grumbling, Cas picked at his blueberry muffin, his appetite diminished as he finally allowed himself to agree with Charlie.

“I know that, but thanks for reminding me of my short-comings.”

Charlie reached for his hand, squeezing it gently.

“I’m really sorry. I know you only wanna help. But Cas: we need more than just ambition, perfect plans, and good intentions to pull off something like this. I did what I could social media-wise, but we really _have_ reached the point where we need funding.”

“I just don’t want anyone to butt in and take over our idea.”

“It’s a toy drive, Cas. It’s not like we’re reinventing string-theory or something.”

Charlie was right, of course. She was always right. He simply hated that for everything in this world, one needed money. He wanted to help those kids at the orphanage. But in a big city like this? Where all people did was co-exist and not give a damn about each other? Sometimes, Cas missed life in the small town he had grown up in. If he had started something like this back in his hometown, people would have piled up to help, simply because they knew him and wanted to help him help others.

Here? Well… here they needed a sponsor. A freaking sponsor! To help the poor kids at the orphanage. To be able to “compete” with the big companies which ran their own toy drives and gift exchanges and whatever. Cas was sure they were all doing it for a good cause or another… but it would still make it harder to convince people to give even _more_ when they came along with their own toy drive.

“Cas, look,” Charlie began, shaking his hand softly to get back his attention. “The guy sounded real nice on the phone and not at all like he wants to take over our idea, okay? Just like a guy with enough money and a big heart, giving back something to the people.”

“Who even is this guy? You never told me his name,” Cas asked out of the blue. 

He had been so against this idea, he hadn’t even bothered to think about that detail until now… five minutes before the guy was supposed to show up at Charlie’s place.

His friend shrugged her shoulders. “Don’t know, didn’t say. Guess he doesn’t want his name to be thrown around.”

“A rich guy who doesn’t want to be named when he’s doing anything good? Yeah, right, Charlie. Good one,” Cas huffed. As if.

Charlie fixed him with a glare.

“You know, for someone constantly trying to better the world you sure as hell have a low opinion on people in general.”

“Not in general,” Cas clarified. “Just rich guys.”

“Jesus, you make it sound like money is a bad thing. Cas, you’re planning for over ten check-points to drop off the gifts. All of them with a raffle, with one ticket in exchange for each gift - we _do_ need to get the stuff people might win from that raffle, you know?”

He gave her a hard glare. Of course he knew that - he had spent the past few weeks trying to convince some stores to donate stuff for the raffle but it had been harder than he thought. He still didn’t have enough prizes.

But Charlie wouldn’t stop there.

“Not to forget your crazy - if not brilliant idea - of one day with a Santa, where kids can have a few minutes with Santa in exchange for even more gifts. Cas, while all these ideas are _brilliant_ … you still have to face the truth. You can like it or not, but those are ambitious plans and you _have_ to know that we need the guy. _And_ his money. Unless of course you wanna spend Jack’s college fund to pay for the prizes and the Santa and everything else.”

Sighing, he finally gave in. It wasn’t as if he had any ground to stand on for this argument. Money makes the world go round and all that crap.

“Yeah, Charlie, I get it, okay? I do.”

“So, you will be nice to the man once he gets here?”

Grumbling, he agreed, still picking at his muffin. At least his friend was awesome and provided his favorite food - homemade of course.

As if on cue, the doorbell went off and Charlie rushed to her door to ring the guy up. She opened the door and left it at that before moving back to the little kitchen isle, rifling through their papers once more. She appeared to be nervous but before Cas could say anything, she fixed him with another gaze. 

“Behave yourself.”

He only rolled his eyes but his retort was stopped by a knock on the open door.

“Hello?”

Cas instantly froze.

He knew that voice. Fuck, he _knew_ that voice.

Charlie rushed forward.

“Hey! Come in, I’m- Holy fuck, you’re Dean Winchester!!”

Cas could hear his soft chuckle, melodic and warm.

“Yeah, hey. Ehm... Sorry for the shock.” The man sounded genuinely embarrassed. “I… well, it’s kinda why I didn’t give you my name. Didn’t want you to think it was a joke or something.”

At those words, Cas risked a glance over his shoulder.

There he stood.

Dean Winchester.

Famous former NFL quarterback. Loved by his fans and the media. Back during his career, not a week had gone by that he wasn’t featured in some magazine or another. If it wasn’t a sports magazine, his face could be found in every gossip column out there, exiting some club or another, never the same girl on his arm. 

That’s how Cas had recognized him instantly this past August. Dean and his team had won the Super Bowl this year, his face all over the media for weeks. Even before that, his team and management had made a big deal out of the fact that it was his last season, milking the fans for all they had to see the guy one last time.

The media had been all over him, even weeks after the season had ended. Had tried to fathom what he would do next, how his life would continue, if maybe he would finally settle down. But when Dean began to refuse any further interviews and keep his head low, so to speak, it had grown quiet around the guy. 

Next thing Cas knew, the supposedly super-straight macho hit on him at a nightclub.

And now he was here. In the flesh.

Most likely trying to get some good publicity again. Not that it should matter to Cas. After all, they got the money, so yay to that. Why should he care that the guy used it to get his name into the media again? 

Charlie, quite obviously, didn’t seem to care at all.

“Hey, no worries,” she told him now, her initial shock about the guy appearing in her living room obviously forgotten. “I’m Charlie, that’s Cas. Come on in.”

“Thanks,” Dean replied, giving her a pleasant and nice smile.

As he stepped into the room, Cas saw his eyes wander, taking in all of Charlie’s room that _screamed_ geek on so many levels. Cas was half sure Dean would either shrug it off as weird or maybe even sound condescending over it - when the guy totally surprised him.

“Oh wow, hang on. Is that...? You have a _Tardis computer tower_?” 

Cas watched as Charlie fluffed up with pride, “Yep! And it’s soooo much bigger on the inside.”

Dean laughed, and the hearty sound sent shivers down Cas’ spine.

“Oh my god, have you watched the new season yet?” Dean asked. 

“Yes! I love her!”

“Me too! Though, I’m still undecided on _three_ companions,” Dean replied. 

“Urgh! I know! And that they introduce all of them at once? Even Rory didn’t join Eleven until the sixth episode!”

Dean gasped as if realizing something, “You think that’s it? That’s why we’re having so much trouble accepting them? Too much change all at once? Too many new people to learn to love?”

“Well, you know the cycle of course, ‘Hate the new doctor’, ‘guess they’re alright’, ‘Best. Doctor. Ever!’ and then ‘No one can ever replace them!’,” Charlie said knowingly, “It’s like that with the companions too!”

“You’re right, You’re absolu-”

Cas cleared his throat. The two were so immersed in their own world that Cas had to get their attention back on track. Charlie, he knew, could talk about Doctor Who for _hours_ , and it seemed as though Dean was ready to join her. 

Not that he didn’t like seeing Charlie enjoy herself - or that he wanted to particularly draw Dean’s attention to him. However, he really wanted to get this unavoidable awkward moment behind him.

When Dean looked up, unusual warm eyes landed on Cas. He waited for the recognition to seep in, waited for the double-take or any other indication that Dean remembered who he was…

But it never came.

Instead, Dean took the last few steps of space between them and held out his hand.

“Sorry about that, just had to geek out a bit. I’m Dean, nice to meet you…”

“Cas,” Cas replied dryly.

“Cas, awesome.” He even sounded like he meant it.

Still, there was no hint that he remembered him.

Which was probably because he _didn’t_! Cas felt so stupid at that very moment. Of course a guy like _Dean Winchester_ wouldn’t remember hitting on someone unremarkable as Cas. Not that Cas had hoped he would, of course not. Yet, still… it felt like a low sucker-punch to his guts.

And probably the reason why the next thing to come out of his mouth sounded way bitchier than it should have.

“I want you to know, we’re taking this drive very serious. This is not something you can put your name on to get some good press.”

“ _Cas_!” Charlie exclaimed but Cas ignored her.

His gaze was focused on Dean, who instantly lost his smile. Looking genuinely taken aback. Dean’s eyes wandered between him and Charlie and back to him.

Charlie already began to apologize when Dean found his voice again.

“No. No, it’s alright. I…” There was a dark, humorless chuckle. “I can certainly see why you would think that. But… no. Actually, quite the contrary. I… I was gonna ask. Well, my one condition for handing you the money is… I absolutely want to stay out of the media with this.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Before either Cas nor Charlie could react, Dean went on.

“Don’t get me wrong, I will make sure you have a lot of coverage on the media. Still have a guy or two who owes me, so we will make sure everybody knows about your toy drive. Just… I don’t want _my_ name to come up in this.”

“Why?!” Charlie asked when she finally found her voice again.

Dean shrugged.

“Your friend actually already answered it. People will think I’m only doing this for good press - and I don’t. I don’t care about that. I- well, I really like your cause and I… I wanna help.”

Dean looked unusually shy about his admission and Cas was confused to realize that he wanted to believe him. But he still could not reconcile the nice guy in front of him with the douchebag from the night club.

“You want to stay in the background? Only give us the money because you _like our cause_? Really?”

“Cas!” Charlie admonished him again, this time even nudging him in his side as she passed him. “Mr. Winchester, please ignore him. He sometimes has a stick up his ass.”

At that, Dean seemed unable to repress a soft chuckle, even though Cas could tell he tried.

 _Well, try harder next time_.

“I know it sounds unbelievable. But I actually like my quiet life, so... yeah. No media attention on my part.”

Cas had no idea how to react to this statement. As it seemed, he didn’t need to, because Dean seemed to choose to follow Charlie’s advice. He gave him one last look and then followed Charlie to the table where they had laid out their “business plan” for the toy drive. Totally ignoring Cas as he addressed Charlie.

“And don’t worry, Charlie. Not like I’m not used to judgy people. Hence, why I don’t want my name connected to your drive - I want this to be about the children, not some dumbass debating whether I do it for publicity or because I suddenly turned into a guy who cares.”

It wasn’t hard to detect a bitter note in this statement, and Charlie gave him a sympathetic smile.

“Oh and by the way, call me Dean.”

“Cool,” Charlie replied, her smile broadening.

As she showed him what all they had planned, Cas looked the guy over.

He seemed friendly enough. Maybe, if it hadn’t been for the incident these few months ago, he would even be willing to ignore all the times the media had gossiped about him. But being hit on in such a douchebag way? Yeah, it made what the gossip rags said about him all the more believable and the last thing Cas needed was to be mixed in with the nameless faces hanging off Dean Winchester’s arm. He wouldn’t do that to himself, much less his son. 

Even _if_ some part of him had screamed ‘screw it all’ and desperately wanted to take him up on his offer. A very, _very_ neglected part of himself.

Then again… Cas had never known Dean Winchester to hit on _men_. No gossip rag had ever mentioned _that_. Certainly, all the more reason to be glad he had kept his head back then. He certainly did _not_ need to be the first man dragged through the press with him. And if the guy was in the closet, Cas would certainly not be his dirty little secret, his experiment, or whatever.

Not that he hadn’t dreamed about the man afterwards… once!

Maybe twice…

Cas was pulled out of his thoughts by a melodic and charmingly warm laugh from the man in question.

“Oh wow, I love these ideas.”

When Cas looked up, there was pure joy and a boyish excitement on Dean’s face that honest to God made Cas’ heart skip a beat.

“They’re Cas’ ideas,” Charlie said, with a wink in his direction.

What the hell?

Dean looked up at Cas, his smile faltering for a moment before it grew wider, their papers still in his hand as he told them, “Well, I think I found another condition I have for my money…”


	3. The Second Time: When Dean was Santa

#  **The Second Time: When Dean was Santa**

“I still can’t believe his other condition was to play Santa for us.”

Cas felt the elbow in his ribcage and winced, though his eyes did not waver from where they were glued on Dean Winchester in a Santa costume, sitting on a throne with a cute little girl on his knee at this very moment. Santa-Dean was obviously immersed in what the kid was telling him, laughing a warm and very much Santa-like laugh at one point.

“Seriously, Cas,” Charlie admonished, taking a sip of her hot chocolate to keep warm. “Try and put on a happy face.”

They had been at today’s toy drive station for the better part of three hours and the cold slowly started to seep into their bones. It was all good and well as long as they were busy, accepting gifts from excited parents and their congratulations on such a great idea before pointing the parents and their kids toward the line to see Santa.

But whenever there was a small lull in line, like right now, Cas could feel the cold.

Charlie’s words didn’t make it better.

“The guy has been nothing but nice and helpful for the past week and don’t tell me otherwise. Would it hurt you to get that stick out of your ass for a moment and be kind to him?”

When Cas gave her a pained look, Charlie rolled her eyes.

“Cas, come on. So he hit on you once, while drunk. So what? We all did stupid shit at one point or another, and don’t tell me otherwise.”

To that, Cas could only shrug his shoulders. He hated when his friend was right and he knew he should stop being like this. It was stupid, really. But his feelings could not just be waved away like that.

“Or are you actually pissed he didn’t recognize you or is it that he doesn’t remember?”

“No!” Cas exclaimed, bringing his own hot chocolate to his lips, mumbling his next words into the mug. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

Thankfully, another group of parents showed up at that moment, handing over a lot of gift boxes before ushering their kids over to Santa-Dean.

“You know what I think?” Charlie picked up their conversation as if they hadn’t been interrupted.

Again, Cas grumbled out a no.

“I think you know that this guy is _exactly_ your type.”

“Charlie!”

“And you’re too scared to let him close, out of fear that you would have to change your opinion on him and - God forbid - something could come of it.”

“Okay, woah! Let me stop you right there,” Cas told her, even holding up his hands. “First of, what the fuck? Whatever gave you that impression?”

“Oh, I don’t know! _Maybe_ the way the guy’s been looking at you or _maybe_ it’s the way you’ve been looking at him when you forget you’re supposed to hate him?”

“You know what, on second thought, I didn’t want you to answer that,” Cas muttered, intent on ignoring what she said. Instead, he went onto his next point, “Secondly, you know there has to be at least _some_ truth to what the media says. There was hardly a week he wasn’t photographed with another girl by his side. That guy’s a player - and I _don’t_ mean that as a bad pun.”

“So?” Charlie replied, looking unimpressed. “He likes to have fun, what’s the harm in that? As long as he doesn’t give any of them false hope… he’s an adult. He can have all the sex he wants.”

“Yeah, and you really think someone like him would just come out? I certainly don’t think so.”

“Since when are you someone to judge people for being in the closet?” Charlie asked with a scolding glare.

Cas simply rolled his eyes. “I’m not! And that’s not what I meant. I was simply pointing out that, if you think something could come of this, you are certainly mistaken. I’m not gonna be someone’s dirty little secret.”

“Well, you could at least have some fun with him.”

“Charlie!” he admonished her. “When have I ever been a guy for that, huh? I’m not interested in some holiday fling and I’m _certainly_ not interested in a one night stand with a famous guy. That’s not who I am.”

He really wasn’t, and for the past week, he had desperately tried to convince his body of that as well. 

“And even _if_ all that wasn’t argument enough already, even _if_ he was planning to come out, by some miracle-” He sent a gaze over to Dean. “Former NFL stars don’t date guys like me.” He pinned Charlie with a stern gaze. “So it would be nice if you could let this go, alright?”

~*~

The fifth hour was slowly drawing to an end when there was another lull in line. For their first day of the actual drive, Cas really couldn’t believe what a success it had already been. He was glad they had hired a van to transport all the toys that had been donated, though he was beginning to wonder if they would even fit in _that._

He also couldn’t believe that he had to admit that a huge part of it was thanks to Dean Winchester. And no one besides Charlie and him even knew about that.

Stepping up to the throne, he handed Dean a mug with hot chocolate, ignoring the surprised gaze the man gave him as he stood next to the throne. He let his eyes wander over the Christmas Fair, still amazed that Dean had been able to work his connections and get them a space for their toy drive on such short notice.

“You’re really good with the kids,” he started out of the blue. “Heard some parents contemplating getting more gifts just so their kids could have a second round at talking to you.”

“Yeah, well,” Dean said, hiding a smile in his hot chocolate - and behind his enormous white beard that covered half his face. But Cas could still tell he was smiling, the expression clear in the soft tone of his voice. “I love kids. It’s not hard to be nice to them.”

Cas tried not to let those words confuse him too much. Maybe Charlie really was right. Maybe he shouldn’t listen to all the media spouted about who this man apparently was. Besides… a Casanova could still love kids, right? Even wish to have some one day...

“Dean-”

Perhaps it was a good thing he got interrupted by excited squeals as two kids dashed forward. Cas’ eyes had been on Dean’s face so he saw the very moment the man’s eyes lit up. Without a word, he handed his mug back to Cas, who was barely able to take it in time for Dean to catch the two kids throwing themselves into his waiting arms.

“Well, hello there. Who are you?” he asked with his fake Santa voice, lifting both kids up effortlessly, settling one on his right, the other on his left knee.

The little girl - maybe five or six - giggled, while the boy, who appeared to be a tad younger than the girl, beamed up at Santa.

“You know who we are,” the girl said, her eyes shining so bright it touched Cas’ heart.

Santa-Dean gave the girl a mock shocked expression, complete with an open mouth and a gasp. “I know you?”

“Yes,” both kids giggled out.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes,” they exclaimed again, the girl even bouncing on his leg.

“Well, you’re not wrong, of course. Santa knows _aaaaall_ the kids that are nice.”

“But you’re not Santa,” the girl told him, pressing her hands to her lips as if to hide her wide grin. Suddenly, she leaned forward, whispering into Dean’s ear - loud enough for Cas to hear her words. “We know it’s you, Uncle Dean.”

Cas was sure that hardly anything had gotten his attention faster in his _life_ than those six words.

Dean, however, seemed unfazed.

“Alright, you clever little munchkin,” he told her, voice lower now to not draw any attention to them. “You got me there.”

“See, Tommy,” the girl told the boy, looking smug. “I told you Santa isn’t real. It’s really Uncle Dean.”

Oh no. Oh no, it looked like that news was about to make the little boy cry - something Cas couldn’t have. He hated for any of these kids to lose their belief in Santa being real, especially if his whole idea would cause such pain.

Before he could intervene, however, Dean spoke again.

“Amber, that’s not nice! Don’t make me tell your mom you’re being mean to your brother. And what’s more, don’t make me tell Santa.” Quickly, he turned to his nephew. “Don’t listen to her, Tommy. I can assure you: Santa is real.”

“Then how come you’re here and not him?” the girl challenged.

Dean gave her a soft smile. “Because Santa has a cold. You know how your Dad always gets when he gets a cold?”

“Ohhhhh,” both children said in unison, nodding as if that were real tragic news, making Cas smile.

“Yeah,” Dean confirmed, nodding. “He was hardly able to move, he’s so sick. So, he sent out a bunch of notes, asking his trusted friends to take his place until he gets well again. After all, if he has a cold on Christmas, who would get all these gifts to all the nice children?”

“So, you’ll tell him what we wish for?”

“Absolutely. But only under one condition. Remember how mommy and daddy talked to you about keeping secrets?”

Both kids nodded.

“Good. Now - as always - you can tell this secret to your parents, but do you think it would be okay to tell other kids?”

Tommy seemed to look at his sister for guidance while the girl seemed to think real hard. Finally, she shook her head.

“No.”

“No?” Dean repeated before smiling at the girl. “Clever girl. You don’t want to ruin the fun for the others, right? So this is a secret that stays between us. And make sure to keep your voices down when you tell your parents, alright?”

“Yes, Uncle Dean,” they whispered, again in unison. 

Dean smiled and then asked them to tell him their wishlist for Santa.

As it seemed, it wasn’t much - some toys Cas was sure Dean would get his niece and nephew without batting an eye. But what really touched Cas where Amber’s final words.

“Oh, and can you please tell Santa to get well soon? I’ll draw him a picture!”

“Me too!” cried Tommy.

“I’ll make sure he gets them,” Dean promised, helping the girl as she hopped off his knee.

Tommy hugged Santa-Dean for a moment, before following his sister who had waited for him, taking his hand as they walked back to their parents. 

Cas couldn’t help but follow them with his gaze, watching as they reached a moose of a man, wrapped in an expensive-looking coat, a suit and tie peeking out from under the lapel. Despite his impressive form, he seemed to have kind eyes and his smile was warm as he raised his hand in greetings to Dean. The woman next to him was dressed similarly smart, her pumps even looking out of place. Still, she kneeled down to embrace her two kids, not giving a damn for her attire to maybe get wet or dirty from the snow. If someone had asked Cas to describe this couple, he would say that these were two business people who were amazing and loving parents that had still taken the time to take their kids to see Santa instead of sending a nanny they more than likely could afford.

As the woman got up, she beamed up at Dean and raised her hand. However, compared to the simple wave her husband had sent to Dean, there was some movement behind it that Cas quickly identified as ASL, even though he couldn’t understand the signs themselves.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dean raise his hands. It drew his gaze back to the man, who’s mittens now lay on his lap as he signed back. A quick succession of hand movements, before he waved the woman goodbye, and pulled on his mittens again.

Before Cas could ask - before he could even comment on anything that had just happened - the next kid was there, occupying Santa-Dean’s attention.


	4. The Third Time: When Dean was Helpful

#  **The Third Time: When Dean was Helpful**

**_[To Charlie, 1.42 pm]_ ** _S.O.S!! My car broke down! I have to pick up Jack in 20 and then run a few errands!! Please, please, PLEASE tell me you’re free!!_

**_[From Charlie, 1.42 pm]_ ** _SORRYYYY!! Middle of a conference call. But I’ll find help, just be ready._

Trying to trust in his friend, Cas let the hand with his phone sink down instead of staring at the screen for any sign of Charlie replying again. Instead, he gave his car a squinty-eyed glare. Of course, that old thing would choose _today_ to decide that its time had come.

Thankfully, Jack’s school was only a five-minute drive away - he could easily walk that distance if push came to shove. But all those errands…

Before he could panic, his phone vibrated again and he quickly read Charlie’s new message.

**_[From Charlie, 1.44 pm]_ ** _Friend’s gonna pick you up and help you out. He’ll be there in ten._

Oh, thank God! They would only be a few minutes late and it wasn’t as if the kids were waiting at the parking lot at 2 pm sharp. They should actually make it.

**_[To Charlie, 1.45 pm]_ ** _You are amazing, thanks! Who is it?_

**_[From Charlie, 1.45 pm]_** _You’ll see_ 😉

Cas frowned at that comment because what the hell?

**_[From Charlie, 1.46 pm]_** _Be nice_ 😘

“Oh, no,” Cas breezed out. “No, you didn’t.” 

**_[To Charlie, 1.47 pm]_ ** _Charlie, I swear to God, if you asked Dean Winchester to help me out, we’ve been friends for the longest time… I’d hate to kill you_

There came no reply, not even the blue checkmark to tell him she had read the message. Seemed like Charlie had switched off her phone.

Castiel was so screwed.

So, so screwed!

Over these past few weeks, it had been impossible not to warm up to the man. While Dean had given him space in the beginning, mostly dealing with Charlie after the cold start he had with Cas, it had been unavoidable that they crossed paths more and more often. Because who would have known that Dean was a guy to get his hands dirty?

He was always there, in the shadows, helping out one way or another. Even if that meant mediocre stuff like fixing a sign that fell down, or setting up the stand, or running out to grab donuts and coffee when they were in the middle of organizing a venue and missed lunch. Dean really wasn’t a guy to go all high and mighty on them. He was down to earth still, he geeked out with Charlie every so often, and he loved to smile and laugh.

When he had heard that they still needed prizes for the raffle, he had gone all out and spoken to the managers of a lot of stores. He had even spoken to his old team and the main prize was now two VIP-tickets to the first game of the new year. Besides all the prizes they needed, Dean had also managed to get them all the supplies they would need in the end to wrap the gifts for the kids. For free.

All that was not even speaking of the media coverage he had organized through some of his old teammates and a contact he kept for one of the magazines. That coupled with Dean’s appearances as Santa here and there… Cas had a hard time sticking to those reasons he had given Charlie all those weeks ago.

At one point, a picture of Dean had appeared online, one that made it clear Dean Winchester was involved in this cause. But he had refused any and all statements, aside from: “This is for the kids, please make it about them, not me.”

To make it short: The man was truly amazing and Cas was seeing him in a whole new light.

And he was also so, so _screwed_.

Because, once again, Charlie had been right. Which was infuriating, because she always was. All that had kept him from jumping his bones was the underlying dislike he harbored for the man. But now even that was gone and all that kept Cas sane was the same mantra over and over again, “You’re not a dirty little secret, you’re no-one’s dirty little secret, you can’t do this to yourself, you can’t do this to Jack.”

Problem was… Dean didn’t seem like that kind of man anymore. At least from what Cas gathered and overheard when Dean talked to Charlie.

And Jack?

He _loved_ Dean! His son honest to God admired the man, from the first second they had met.

So, yeah, Cas was screwed, because now he would have to spend the day in close proximity to the man, and his charm, and general niceness, and his easy-going nature, and those freckles- 

A car honking pulled him out of his thoughts. Looking up, he saw the beautiful, black Impala, Dean’s pride and joy, idling at the end of his driveway. With a calming breath, Cas picked up all his stuff and went over.

“Hey there,” Dean greeted him with a genuine smile. “Your uber is here.”

That pulled a grin from Cas. “Hello Dean. And thank you for this.”

“Hey, no worries. That’s what friends are for, right?”

Cas choose not to answer and hoped that Dean would think the color in his ears was from the cold. Instead, he gave the man direction to Jack’s school. As they parked, Dean looked up at him, concern in his eyes out of nowhere.

“Oh shit, I forgot,” he said, his eyes on the first kids leaving the school. “Does he need a car seat? I have some in the trunk for Sam’s kids, but I bet they would be too small and-”

“No,” Cas interrupted, surprised by Dean’s question, but touched by his concern. “Ehm, no, thank you. Jack outgrew his booster seat a few months ago. He’s pretty proud of it too, because he’s ‘a big boy now’,” he added with a soft smile. “But thank you. For thinking of that.”

“Of course,” Dean replied.

The smile playing around Dean’s lips set the butterflies in Cas’ stomach soaring high and he quickly left the car to pick up his son, desperately trying to calm his emotions.

~*~

As was to be expected, Jack was thrilled to drive in Dean’s “awesome car”, hardly sitting still enough for Cas to put the seatbelt on him. As they drove around town, checking in on all the drop-off points, Dean seemed absolutely happy to engage with Jack in a conversation about his school and a bit of football. Even promising him to throw some ball with him sometime. 

Cas was so enraptured with watching their interaction, he needed to pull himself together each time they reached a new destination. But he needed to focus, making sure everything was set and ready for the gifts to be brought over to _Reaper’s Delight_ for when it was time. Billie had been so kind as to let him rent her club for this occasion. He knew she would have done it for free - special friend’s bonus - but Dean had still insisted on paying her for it. 

A move that, of course, did not come as a surprise anymore. 

Like it didn’t surprise Cas when Dean invited him and Jack to his favorite waffle place after all their work was done for the day.

Who would have thought that one day, Cas would sit with his son and a famous former NFL star and happily eat sticky yet delicious waffles, watching the two of them bond with each other?

Certainly not Cas.

~*~

It was already late in the evening by the time Dean pulled up in front of Cas’ house. Jack had fallen asleep in the backseat, so full on waffles and excitement, that it had made him sleepy somewhere along the way.

As Dean turned off the motor, Cas couldn’t help but look at him with a soft smile.

“What?” Dean asked, seeming unsure if he should return the smile or be worried about Cas’ sudden niceness.

Cas slowly shook his head. “You’re something else, Dean Winchester, you know that?”

“I’m… ehm… what?”

“You’re a good man. I’m sorry for thinking differently of you at first.”

“Oh,” was all that Dean replied, and Cas could see color spreading over his cheeks.

When Cas moved his hand, the rustling of his trenchcoat was unusually loud in the quiet car. The next moment, Dean’s eyes flew down to where Cas’ hand lay on his arm, before flicking back up to look at Cas, question and wonder written in those green eyes so very clearly.

“Thank you, Dean. For today, for everything you have done, and for how amazing you are with kids. With Jack.”

Catching even himself by surprise, Cas leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to Dean’s cheek. Not letting himself question his move, he quickly drew back and got out of the car. He didn’t risk another gaze at Dean as he opened the back door to hoist Jack into his arms.

If he did, he had no idea what he would do next.

So instead, he closed the door and with his son in his arms, quickly went inside, not risking another glance back. Not even when he heard the car rumble to life and drive away.

No matter his feelings for Dean Winchester… The toy drive was coming to an end and he knew that Dean would move on soon. There was no need to set his heart on things he could never have...


	5. The Fourth Time: When Dean kissed Cas

#  **The Fourth Time: When Dean kissed Cas**

Cas couldn’t believe it.

They had made it. They had actually, fucking made it!

The toy drive was over. All they had to do now was deliver them.

He looked at the piles upon piles of wrapped gifts, taking up a good part of the dancefloor of _Reaper’s Delight_. Some parts of the floor were still littered with wrapping utensils from where a bunch of Christmas Elves - as they had liked to be called - had volunteered to wrap all the donated gifts, plus marking the appropriate age on each gift. The people who ran their local orphanages had assured them that gender markings weren’t necessary. If a boy really was unhappy about getting a doll, or a girl about getting a soccer ball, they were all open enough to switch within the groups.

Cas had been quite happy about this forward mindset - it was one of the reasons he had decided to support this chain of orphanages.

Picking up some of the litter, Cas was surprised by footsteps. He had been sure he would be alone by now, the last to leave had been Charlie and Billie, who had joined them to supervise the gift wrapping, and he would pick up Jack from his friend’s place on his way home. Jack had preferred that over holding the scotch tape for someone for the afternoon.

As he turned around, he saw Dean behind the bar, getting down a bottle of whiskey. He appeared to read the label for a moment, then after nodding in approval, picked up two shot glasses with his other hand and walked around the bar and over toward Cas. When he saw Cas watching him, a wide grin appeared on his lips.

“Thought we could celebrate. You’ve done a fucking fantastic job.”

“Couldn’t have done it without you.”

Cas’ words drew a shocked gasped out of Dean, but his eyes showed that he meant it in a playful way. 

“What was that? Was that… praise? From you? I’m shocked.”

“Haha, very funny,” he replied, taking both glasses and holding them still as Dean filled them with whiskey.

When he was done, Dean put the bottle on a nearby table and took the proffered glass before looking at Cas.

“To this toy drive and a fucking great success.”

“To everyone who helped,” Cas offered, clinking his glass to Dean’s, downing the shot in one go.

Dean did the same, still smiling when he finished off the glass. Putting it down next to the bottle, he gestured at the mess on the floor.

“Want some help cleaning up?”

“Ehm, well… if you have the time?”

“Sure,” Dean replied, moving to grab a waste bag without hesitation.

They were working in silence for a while until Cas couldn’t take it anymore.

“Dean?”

“Mhh?”

“I wanted to apologize. For… well, for how I behaved towards you in the beginning.”

The man in question looked up at him, work momentarily forgotten it seemed. “Hey, don’t sweat it. I know I don’t have the best of reputations sometimes. And I’m used to people thinking the worst of me.”

“Yeah but… I’m usually not like that, you know?” Cas tried to explain, worrying his lips over how to find the right words. “I don’t know, I never really cared about all the gossip anyway. Hell, I don’t even care about football all that much.”

That drew a mock-horrified gasp from Dean, which made Cas grin as he continued.

“All I’m saying is: I shouldn’t have cared about your… reputation, or whatever. But... I don’t know. I guess I was just a bit peeved that you didn’t remember me.” 

“Remember you?” Dean asked in surprise, his eyes flickering about Cas’ face as if he could see the answer there. “Wait, have we met before?”

Castiel chuckled. “We have, yes. I suspected that you must have forgotten our _real_ first meeting. The fact that you didn’t remember me, plus the way our first meeting went, I felt like you confirmed what a douche you were.”

When Dean stared at him with question marks floating over his head, Cas couldn’t help but chuckle again.

“Do you remember being in this club before?”

“The _Reaper’s Delight_? Sure, I come here often. Wait… have we met _here_ before?”

“See, at first I didn’t know if you were playing it cool, to save us the embarrassment,” Cas began to explain as Dean got up, wonder on his face. “But the more you spoke, the more I realized you _really did not remember_. I’m not a vain person, but… I don’t know, it just… it fit the picture, you know? Of you being a flirt, picking up every person in existence. And then not even remembering-”

“You were the angel.”

The sudden whisper interrupted Cas, his mouth snapping shut. Okay, he had not expected _that_.

Dean stared at him, long and intense before he continued. “Sonofabitch, _you’re_ the guy who shot me down and threatened to kick me in the guts if I don’t leave you alone.”

Cas was searching for words, rendered thoroughly speechless for a moment.

“You _do_ remember?” he finally wheezed out.

“Well,” Dean said, licking his lips. “I remember the instance, yeah. I totally remember it happening - have thought of the guy quite often, actually. I just… I kinda never made the connection that it was _you_.”

“You… you’ve thought about me?”

The moment that sentence was out of his mouth, Cas closed his eyes, wishing he could take it back. Way to go to not sound totally gone on the guy.

When he opened his eyes again, it was to a low, somewhat embarrassed sounding chuckle. Dean was looking at the floor, a hand at his neck. A moment later, his eyes were back on Cas and he could see a faint tinge of red on his cheeks.

“That as well, yes.”

Cas could feel his own ears burning up, the implication Dean was making loud and clear. Was it suddenly getting hot in here? He tugged awkwardly on his collar.

“I apologize,” Dean said earnestly, pulling Cas out of his thoughts. “For that night,” he clarified. “I know I was beyond drunk, and from what I remember, I did and said some embarrassing things that night.”

He was certainly not gonna contradict that.

With a sigh, Dean leaned against a table, rubbing a hand over his face.

“That night… Sam had just told me that Eileen is pregnant again - which I’m of course happy for him. Just… I don’t know, I guess it showed me what all I had missed in my life. Don’t get me wrong, I love the life I had. But my career… well…”

Dean left the thought open and hanging in the air for a moment before he started anew. 

“A friend of mine took me out to… I don’t even know - celebrate? Drown my sorrow? Forget about it? Any of these, really. Obviously, being an athlete, it had been a while since I really got shitfaced, so the few shots we took hit me way harder… and then I saw _you_.”

Holding his breath, Cas could feel his heart hammering against his ribcage, not daring to interrupt Dean.

“It’s not like being attracted to men is any news to me. But with my choice in career…” Once again, Dean let the sentence hang unfinished between them, no need to clarify. “But now that I’m retired and with the whole media shit around me slowly dying down, and knowing what all I had missed in life… that I could finally start settling down and be myself… start something serious with a man, or even having a family of my own...” Dean’s eyes flicked quickly to Cas and then away again. “And then there was this _gorgeous_ angel of a man and my alcohol addled mind thought ‘go for it, what do you have to lose?’ and, well… I listened.”

Cas stared at Dean, utterly speechless. It sounded almost like… like Dean wanted to… That maybe if he started something with Dean, it would not end the next day, or after Christmas. Or ever...

Dean drew in a deep breath, before adding, “I’m really sorry if I made you uncomfortable that night. Not only for being drunk but… well, shit. I don’t even know if you’re into men, I really _am_ sorry. No wonder you hated me when we met again.”

“It’s-,” Cas cleared his throat, “It’s okay, Dean, really. I- I rather feel like I owe _you_ an apology. I was pretty rude to you that night, drunk or not.”

“No man,” Dean replied. “You had every right. I was, to put it into your words, a drunk douche. Hell, I would have been disgusted myself by behavior like that.”

“Well, for what it’s worth…” Cas said, licking his suddenly dry lips. He wasn’t sure if he should finish that sentence - but he did anyway. “I certainly don’t hate you anymore and I also don’t think you’re a douche. Quite… quite the contrary.”

For a moment, he hoped Dean hadn’t heard the slight hitch in his voice, but the moment Dean’s eyes caught his, the moment he saw the heat in them, he knew Dean _had_ heard it and… _thank God_ for that.

A predatory grin formed on that handsome face as Dean kicked away from the table and slowly sauntered toward him.

“Yeah?” he asked, voice husky, suggestive. “You mean… you wouldn’t mind a… what did you call it that night? A _flirtation_ from me now?”

Cas couldn’t help a little chuckle.

“Well… as long as your sober pick-up lines aren’t as terrible as your drunken ones.”

“How about no lines at all?” Dean replied, voice soft now as he stood dangerously close.

His warmth was already making Cas dizzy and all he could do was look confused.

“Wha-”

He didn’t get any further as Dean’s lips sealed his, his strong hands on the small of Cas’ back pulling him closer.

Cas didn’t stand a chance as he melted against Dean, letting the kiss consume him.


	6. The Fifth Time: When Cas kissed Dean

#  **The Fifth Time: When Cas kissed Dean**

Cas was about to pour himself a glass of wine when a knock came at the door. Setting the bottle down with a small frown on his brow, he made his way over to the front door. A quick glance through the peephole showed Dean standing on his doorstep. With a thundering heart, Cas opened the door. 

“Hello, Dean,”

“Hey Cas, hi! Good to see you.”

They stood awkwardly for a beat of time, before Cas regained his equilibrium, “Would you like to come in?”

“Yeah, sure, thanks.” 

Dean seemed to be nervous - a fact that intrigued Cas, as he had hardly seen him like this within their short time together. Stepping back, he allowed Dean into his home and when he saw him looking around in interest, he was suddenly proud he kept his home neat and tidy, even with an eight-year-old running around. 

When Dean turned back to him, Cas noticed the present he held in his hands. Dean must have seen him looking because he held it up with a sheepish grin.

“I uh, brought this around for Jack.”

“Oh,” said Cas simply. 

The tiny sound did nothing to show the sudden wave of affection Cas felt for Dean, those butterflies soaring again. Not that they really had had any chance to settle since their first kiss about two weeks ago, the feeling had only grown stronger over time. Their almost daily coffee dates, the quiet snogging in Dean’s car, the two dinners, one Dean had paid for, the other Cas had insisted on paying for. The Saturday they had ignored the cold weather and had taken Jack to the park; Dean had spent the entire time teaching Jack how to throw like a ‘real’ football player and Cas had not been able to find fault in the fact that his date had barely spoken to him at all. Not when Dean had made his son smile and laugh as he did. Bonding with him, as if to tell Cas that he was not about to leave either of them. 

“Is that not okay?” Dean's question suddenly cut into Cas’ wandering thoughts. “He asked Santa for it, and I thought that… well, shit, sorry man. I’ll just go, okay?”

“No!” Cas exclaimed, his hand shooting out to grab Dean’s wrist as he realized he had been standing there, staring at Dean for too long. “No, sorry, I was just surprised. Of course it’s alright.”

Dean met his eyes, a slow smile working its way onto his face, “Yeah?”

“Yes,” Cas said, nodding for emphasis. 

“Well, alright then. Should I put it under the tree?” he asked.

Cas nodded again, unable to speak as he became aware of just how close Dean was standing and that he was still holding onto Dean’s arm. Letting go, he led him further into the house.

“Nice place,” Dean commented as they entered the living room, “Is the kid asleep already?” he asked, glancing at his watch.

Cas shook his head, “No, he’s with his mother.”

“Oh. I had no idea she was still in the picture.”

“She’s not,” Cas replied with a shrug. “Not really, anyway. She’s a busy woman, always traveling the world for one job or another. But she calls from time to time, never forgets his birthday, and comes here every year to spend Christmas Eve with him.”

“And you’re okay with him staying with her?”

“I guess it could be better,” Cas admitted. “But it’s worked well so far and Jack is happy with this arrangement. So… yeah. He spends the night at the hotel with her and she’ll drop him off in the morning before she heads out again.”

Dean finally nodded and moved toward the tree, tucking the present beneath the branches. When he got back up, a shy smile was playing around his lips.

“So, you’re alone tonight?” 

Cas inclined his head, “I am.”

The shy smile slowly morphed into a smirk again, “Did you, ah, did you maybe wanna go out for dinner? Or watch a movie or something?”

Considering it was eight in the evening and Cas had finished eating over an hour ago, Cas desire for dinner was non-existent. Considering, however, that his desire for something else had been simmering under his skin for quite a while now, he didn’t think he could be blamed for what happened next. 

Crossing the distance between them in a heartbeat, Cas crushed his lips to Dean’s, grasping his shoulders and pressing himself against the firm body he had envisioned so many times. There was no hesitation in Dean, his lips responding right away, his hands instantly on him, one gripping his hip firmly, pulling him even closer; the other gently cupping his face. Cas moaned quietly as Dean changed the angle of the kiss. 

Taking this as a good sign, he pushed Dean toward the sofa and without breaking the kiss, he pushed him down, straddling his lap in the next motion. 

“Guess, it’s ‘or something’ then?” Dean asked cheekily when they eventually came up for air. 

“Shut up,” Cas nearly growled, nipping at Dean’s chin. “Kiss me.”

With a low chuckle, Dean eagerly straightened up, his arms wrapping around Cas’ back, a hand coming to grasp at the nape of his neck. 

“Gladly.”

Cas got lost in their kiss. He sank even further into Dean’s lap, groaning softly as he pushed his hands underneath the thin cotton of Dean’s shirt. The hard planes of his stomach were smooth against Cas’ fingers. 

This kiss was different from the others they had shared. Their kisses had never lacked the passion, always driving him wild and never once having him doubt Dean’s enthusiasm. But this one here? There was a heated urgency to it that caused Cas’ body to rock in time with every surge of their necks, every heady stroke of their tongues. With every passing moment, every groan breathed between them, every touch of skin, Cas grew further and further lost in it. Lost to the ravages of passion, to the grasping of Dean’s hands, their heavy panting, the strangled moans when Cas rocked his hips _just so_. All of it built up around to fill his ears, his mind, his every sense. 

All of it was tangled in _Dean._

Cas was only just aware when he got rid of Dean’s jacket, the muffled _whump_ when it hit the floor barely reaching his ears and his hands dove for the hem of Dean’s shirt. Pulling, tugging, until they had to part and it was free. A small, confident smile spread across Cas’ face when he saw the hazy expression Dean wore, his pupils dilated a little as he blinked blearily up at him. 

Cas reached for the neck of his own jumper, intent on dispensing with it, when Dean rasped out. 

“Wait _._ ” 

His hands stopped midway from pulling up his jumper, leaving him in a rather awkward position. It had Dean chuckling, as he reached for it himself, helping Cas get rid of it. The moment, Cas’ head was free, Dean breathed a kiss on the tip of his nose.

It was cheesy, it was corny - it was perfect.

It took some of the heat out of the moment but it also showed Cas that everything was okay, even though Dean had stopped them.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to ruin the moment.”

“You didn’t,” Cas assured him, slowly rocking his hip, just enough to show Dean how very much the mood was _not ruined_.

Dean’s eyes fluttered for a moment, a breathy groan leaving his lips, enticing Cas to lean in again and continue. But Dean had stopped them for a reason, so he patiently waited for him to get his bearings back. When Dean’s eyes opened, they were somewhat glazed and unfocused, yet still smiling.

Cas couldn’t help himself and neither could he keep his hands from the perfect body under him. Slowly dragging his fingers over Dean’s collarbone, he made sure to catch Dean’s eyes again before he spoke.

“Sorry. Was… was this too fast?”

“No,” Dean assured him, his hand now equally exploring Cas’ naked torso. “Not at all. God, I’ve wanted you for so long. And right now? I’ve never been so turned on in my _life_.”

At that, Cas had to chuckle, not able to hide his smug smile. Which, in return, made Dean chuckle as well.

“I was… just not sure. I don’t know… about your, ehm… expectations, I think?”

It took Cas a moment, to grasp Dean’s words, but the blush that quickly spread all over Dean’s chest and neck and cheeks told him enough. Smiling, he leaned down, pressing a gentle, lingering kiss to Dean’s lips.

“I honestly have no expectations at all. I’m all yours.”

The topic of Dean still being in the closet had come up only once but it had been enough for Cas to understand that Dean’s hidden life had also led to not having been with a man before, even though he was confident in his own skin. He seemed to know what he wanted and Cas was sure he would tell him.

Dean’s eyes were wandering but never strayed from Cas. He seemed to take in every inch of Cas’ face and he took his time doing so until he finally pulled him in for another kiss. Before it reached its breaking point once more; before the heat and passion consumed both of them again, Dean broke the kiss and moved his lips to Cas’ ear, whispering his next words, his voice a low, rumbled growl that had Cas shivering.

“I wanna _feel_ you. You’re already inside of me, my every thought, my every heartbeat. Now I want to _feel_ you completely.”

Cas needed no further invitation.

Just like that, all words, all hesitancy, all blushing, fell away and it was like they hadn’t interrupted their previous activities. Within seconds, the previous heat was back and Cas couldn’t stop his hands from wandering all over Dean’s body, tugging on his jeans every now and then.

Dean was equally eager, his hands even wandering inside of Cas’ sweats and boxers, gripping his bum tightly to pull him closer.

God, Cas needed to get that man out of his jeans. Like, right now. But the fact that his lips were glued to Dean’s perfect body made that really, really hard.

“Hey Cas,” Dean breathed, voice somewhere between delirious and husky.

Not stopping his lips from exploring Dean’s neck and shoulders, he only made a humming-noise of agreement to let him know he had his attention.

“Can we move this to a more comfortable place? I want to get out of these jeans… _need to_ , really...” Dean said with a smirk.

Chuckling, Cas did let go of Dean after all, letting his hands wander through the spiky strands as he caught Dean’s gaze.

“Absolutely, yes,” he replied, leaning in to catch Dean’s lips in another kiss. Disentangling himself from the man, he got up and held out his hand. “Let’s go upstairs.”

Dean, however, shook his head. “Too far. And I kinda like the fire-and-Christmas-tree atmosphere that’s going on here.”

“You do know that that’s super cheesy, right?”

With a quick tug on his hand, Dean pulled Cas back towards him, just enough for another lingering kiss before he breathed out a husky chuckle.

“Yeah, but I don’t care.”

“Alright,” Cas replied with a wide grin. “As you wish.”

As he straightened up again and moved towards the door after all, Dean made a noise of protest, not letting go of Cas’ hand.

“I have to grab some stuff we need. Be back in a sec.”

And back in a second he really was, not able to stay away from Dean for long. He had quickly gotten some condoms and a bottle of Astroglide from his bedroom and had also taken his comforter, almost as an afterthought. The rug in front of the fireplace was certainly comfy to sit on for a long time - but sex was another thing entirely. Not even the comforter would be enough but it would certainly be better.

As he got back, Dean was still sitting on the couch, a blissed smile on his face. All that had changed was his shoes and socks gone from his feet, now resting next to the couch. Cas could feel his eyes on him as he spread the comforter and put down the supplies. When the man still didn’t move, Cas raised one eyebrow.

“You just gonna sit there and enjoy the show?”

“Oh? I had no idea there was gonna be a show.”

And damn, if that didn’t sound like a challenge. One that Cas was certainly up to. Not that he had much left to undress from - and hell, there was no way to get rid of your socks in a sexy way. He quickly chucked them off and then slowly, oh so slowly, he pushed down his sweats and boxers. 

Dean’s eyes were glued to his body, burning with a hunger. The man even licked his dry lips and damn if Cas wasn’t turned on. Slowly, purposefully walking over, Cas reached for Dean, who took his hand willingly and let himself be pulled up and back into a kiss. Dean’s hands were on hims again immediately, leaving it to Cas to quickly get rid of those annoying jeans and boxer briefs and _god damn_.

Dean was pure sex on two legs. Two very muscled, nicely shaped legs.

“I can’t wait to have these around me…” Cas whispered, letting his hands run all over Dean’s body, finally pulling him over to the fireplace.

Together they sank on the makeshift bed, their lips never parting and their hands never leaving the other. Without hesitation, Dean pulled Cas over him and Cas went willingly. Loving the feel of this strong body under him. Trusting him. Pliant only for him.

A surge of primal possessiveness came over him, knowing he was the first - maybe the only - man to ever feel Dean Winchester like this. Dean Winchester, this wonderful, perfect, genuine, lovable, _gorgeous_ man. And he trusted _him_ ; trusted Cas to be with him like no one else had.

With his lips and fingers and softly whispered praise, Cas showed Dean just how much this meant to him. Cherishing him, loving him, worshipping him.

When his fingers wandered over Dean’s hole, there was a slight hitch in Dean’s breathing. But when he didn’t stop his wandering hands Cas continued. If Dean said he wanted this, then he trusted the man to know himself well enough.

After slicking up his fingers, Cas stopped his kisses and levered himself up onto one arm, hovering over Dean. He wanted to see it, wanted to watch Dean’s face as he slowly, gently entered one finger. And Dean did not disappoint. Not that he could. Not with the way Cas felt about him. But his reaction was beautiful. His eyes closed, head bent back, his long neck stretching towards Cas as he tried to control his breathing. There was an invitation there that Cas couldn’t pass up on, so he lowered his lips to Dean’ Adam’s apple, sucking on the delicate skin, eliciting the dirtiest moan from Dean he had ever heard.

“ _Cas_.”

It was nothing more but a breath, Dean’s fingers digging into Cas’ arms as he obviously tried to find his equilibrium.

Yet, Cas was not about to let him; he wanted to make this wonderful for Dean. Wanted to blow his mind.

Dipping his head down, he let his lips wander all over Dean’s throat and chin and neck and earlobe and shoulder, nipping, sucking, kissing. Meanwhile, his finger slowly moved in and out of Dean, gently relaxing him until Cas was sure that he could take two.

It wasn’t long until the man under him was a delicious and delirious _mess_ , panting and moaning his pleasure. When he started pleading, Cas entered a third finger, making sure Dean was thoroughly prepared for his first time bottoming.

“Please. Cas, _please_.”

The words were barely audible, always pressed out on a heavy breath. It was enough to have Cas’ head swimming as well.

When he finally couldn’t take it anymore, he carefully pulled out his fingers and made quick work of cleaning them before putting on a condom. Using some more lube, just to be sure, Cas remembered to push a small pillow under Dean’s back before finally lowering himself over him. Instantly, Dean’s arms were around him, pulling him close and into a breathy kiss.

Cas kissed him back with everything he had, getting lost in the feel as he slowly, carefully pushed in. He took his sweet time, though Dean seemed eager to go faster. But Cas had waited too long for this to be rushed now, so he simply kissed Dean further into the comforter, trying to earn his compliance with heated kisses.

As Dean’s legs wound around his hips, urging him on, he finally gave in and bottomed out. Panting a little, and pressing his forehead to Dean’s, Cas stayed like that for a moment.

“Cas. Cas, _please_.”

This time, the pleading was accompanied by a little nip of teeth on Cas’ bottom lip, Dean careful yet determined as it seemed.

And God damn, Cas was only human as well. Shifting his hips, he built up a rhythm of slow thrusts, in and out, pulling the most wonderful noises from the man beneath him. There were no words spoken, and there was no need for it.

Changing the angle, Cas knew the moment he hit Dean’s prostate. It had Dean arching his back and babbling out incoherent words, of which Cas was only able to catch his own name and a few quiet swears. Possibly there was a _God_ or _Jesus_ somewhere in between but he wasn’t sure. And neither did he care as he picked up the pace, giving in more and more to Dean’s urging.

Slowly losing control of himself and following only his instincts, his lips found Dean’s again. Not that it was much of a kiss, more a breathing of the same air. But it was exactly that touch he was craving at the moment.

It wasn’t long until he could feel his release drawing closer. Changing the angle once more, he put his weight on one arm, freeing his hand to firmly grasp Dean’s cock. Right away, one of Dean’s hands followed, leaving their place where they had dug into Cas’ back. Together, they jerked Dean in sync with Cas’ now frantic thrusts and it took but a few strokes until Dean was sucking in a shattered breath and coming all over their joined hands.

Cas needed to let go, not caring for the mess on his hand as he planted it right next to Dean’s head, needing it to keep his own balance as he thrust into Dean three, four, five more times. His own breath, along with Dean’s name stuck in his throat as his orgasm washed over him. For a moment, he was sure he saw stars, not able to move or breathe or even think.

It was Dean’s kisses along his forearms, his neck, his cheek, that slowly brought him back.

“Dean,” he finally breathed out, slowly lowering himself off-center to Dean, so he was not putting his whole weight on him. Dean seemed not to care one way or another, as he pulled Cas into his arms, burying his nose in his sweaty neck.

How long they lay there, Cas was unable to tell. He might even have fallen asleep for a second or two. But by the time he finally got up to fetch a cloth to clean the both of them, the fire had burned down and he had to put some briquettes and smaller logs of wood along with the bigger pieces to get it going again. 

After that, he more than readily dived back into Dean’s waiting arms, pulling one of the woolen blankets from the couch over them.

He knew they should probably talk. Maybe speak about the future and so many things yet unsaid. But for now, for just this evening, all he wanted was to lay in Dean’s arms and enjoy the moment.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean whispered after a while of utter and blissful silence and with no desire to talk, Cas simply hummed in reply. Dean pulled him close, leaving a sweet kiss on his temple. He left his lips pressed there as he whispered, “Merry Christmas.”

Smiling, Cas turned his head enough to leave a kiss somewhere on Dean’s skin, honestly not caring what part of his body it was as long as it was Dean.

“Merry Christmas,” he whispered back, letting himself be pulled closer into Dean’s embrace and into blissful dreams.

_**~ The End ~** _

**Author's Note:**

> As always, the biggest thanks to my wonderful beta [ArielSakura](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArielSakura). Finishing this fic up with an inner ear infection has been hell these past few days, so she practically had to write the last chapter for me, cause I was all over the place with my rambling 😂
> 
> Also a big thanks to [lilhawkeye3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilhawkeye3) for checking over my Doctor Who references - since I'm ashamed to admit that I don't know that fandom at all 😅
> 
> Well then - back to my Lumberjack Cookies chapters 😘 see you soon with an update!


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